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Monday, December 24, 2012

Why do the good days have to lull me into a false sense of normalcy?

I had several good days in a row. I've been a little tired now and then, but I was able to keep going. There were a couple days here and there when I said: "Hey, you don't need me to go anywhere, do you?" and then I took a couple Vicodin to take the edge off the pain (I'm still having that weird ankle/calf/foot thing). But I'd wake up each morning and get out of bed with relative quickness... then today happened.

I slept through my first alarm. Then I slept through five minutes of my second alarm. When I finally sat up, I could barely move. My entire body hurts. Head to toes. Hit by a truck? Thrown from a horse? I feel like I was run over by a horse driving a big U-Haul truck full of bricks. Why is a horse driving a large U-Haul full of bricks? I have no idea, maybe his hobby is masonry and he needs the bricks for a project. At any rate, my entire body is in burning-skin, painfully tight muscle agony. Not even 6 AM yet and I'm already curled into a question mark. Every time this happens, it is always a surprise to me. I have no idea why I let myself get into that groove like that. It makes every flareup just that much harder to deal with.

I have to go to the store today, too. This isn't going to be a fun trip. (I have no choice on the store-going. The kids who are home both worked through the night last night. Jason works third shift now and Christine had to go back to her school yesterday for a job- she gets paid for it too- and didn't get home till 330 AM, if my dogs barking was indication). Anyway, since they were both working, they'll both be sleeping and the store closes early this evening because of it being Christmas Eve.

But about those good days... It wasn't a lot, maybe four straight. But I felt good those four days. I was able to do things and able to function and the pain didn't distract me from my tasks. And then I woke up today to this kick in the teeth. It is like my body said: "Oh, you're having a decent time? Feeling good? Let me remind you again of your life." And the fibrofuckingmyalgia round-house kicked me in the back of the face and left me on the floor.

I just tried to type up a paragraph about my mom and how much this Christmas season sucks (for those who don't know, my mom died last year on Christmas night- it was almost midnight). But I can't seem to articulate the whole thing into sentences that make any kind of sense. Let's just say I want this holiday to be over. It still sucks, I still miss her, I wish I could tell her everything that has happened in the past year- even just the past six months- and I can't. And please, don't placate me with how she's looking down on me and all that. It doesn't help and it just makes me want to punch a baby. And what if that baby is her reincarnated? That's no good for any of us.

So, I'm having a hellish flareup today. Partly from stress, partly from activity, partly from that irate horse driving a truckload of bricks and Weather-dot-com alleges we'll have snow this morning. I'll believe it when I see it. "Snowpocalypse 2012" dumped a few inches of alleged snow the other day, but when I went outside to take photos of snowflakes, all I got was closeups of clumps of ice. There were no proper snowflakes.

I'm going to go take my stay-alive pills and eat breakfast. Then I'm going to the store as early as I can so I can come home and take some Vicodin. Merry fucking Christmas.